


What Happens in Vegas...

by chibi_nightowl



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Denny's, JayTim Week Prompt Fill, Las Vegas, M/M, Vegas Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 13:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16766113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi_nightowl/pseuds/chibi_nightowl
Summary: Tim can feel his jaw drop in amazement. “Wow. Okay. I thought the drive-thru wedding was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard of, but this takes the cake. Who would want to get married atDenny’s?”





	What Happens in Vegas...

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this written for an age and a half and never got around to posting it. I’m pretty sure that at some point, GoAwayOlivia may have even beta read this, but I can’t remember now. Here’s my one and only full fic for this fall's JayTim week! (posted late to Ao3 because of _reasons_.

Tim’s drunk. He knows it too and isn’t making any pretense at hiding it as he leans back in the vinyl booth at Denny’s and waits for his breakfast. Across from him, Jason is slowly working on the Bloody Mary he ordered.

“I still can’t believe that Denny’s has a full service _bar_.” Jason has commented on this a few times now, but Tim forgives him for repeating himself. He’s almost as drunk as he is.

A sex trafficking ring with a connection out west had led Red Robin and the Red Hood to the one and only Sin City– Las Vegas. After successfully taking them down and rescuing over fifty captives (the police and FBI were _busy_ to say the least), the two men decided they were due some well-earned vacation time and took advantage of their current location to use it.

A day by the pool turned into a night on the town, followed by sleeping the next day away completely as they recovered. When they got up in the afternoon, they hit the card tables, Jason having some fun with the poker room and Tim kicking ass with blackjack. He was totally counting the cards, it was something he just did naturally, but he made a point to lose often enough so as to avoid suspicion. That night, they went to the Beatles show, then started drinking again as they made their way back to their hotel before Jason got it in his head that he wanted pancakes and only Denny’s would do.

So that’s how they found themselves at the Denny’s up on Fremont Street, just off Las Vegas Boulevard. It’s not like the typical restaurant Tim’s used to. No, this one is all Las Vegas. If he hadn’t seen the sign when they walked in earlier, he’d have thought they were somewhere else as the place was very modern looking compared to the homey and dumpier places he’s used to back in Gotham.

Tim sips at his orange juice, wishing it had vodka in it since Jason isn’t letting him drink any coffee.

“You don’t need coffee, Timmy,” Jason says. “We’re getting a cab, an Uber, whatever, and going right back to the hotel after this and we’re crashing. Hard. And hopefully won’t be too hungover later today.”

“Says the man drinking a Bloody Mary,” Tim replies dryly, cracking open an eye to peer at his partner. Boyfriend. Whatever. They’ve been together what feels like forever now.

“Supposed to be good for hangovers.”

Tim can’t hide his snort of derision. “I think that’s because they extend the drinking process. How much vodka is in that?”

“Not enough. The mimosas at brunch earlier were a hella lot better.”

“Those have champagne, not vodka. We were also at Caesar’s Palace,” Tim retorts.

“Yeah, I suppose this is a definite step down the ladder.” Jason starts rolling up the cuffs of his black dress shirt. They’d dressed up a bit for the show, wearing collared shirts and blazers with their jeans. The blazers are currently draped haphazardly in their respective corners of the booth. Tim is sitting on part of his and doesn’t care in the slightest.

“You’re the one who wanted pancakes here. We could have gotten room service, you know.” Tim sips again at his drink, trying not to think about just how much sugar has been added to the supposedly fresh squeezed juice.

“Picky, picky. I know you like this place, you snob. Moons Over My Hammy ring a bell?”

“I ordered it, didn’t I, Mr. Grand-Slam Breakfast?” Tim dishes back, but there’s no bite to it. Dick has long been teasing them that they sound like an old married couple while Stephanie is always asking when one of them is going to man up and put a ring on it. Damian just tells them to get a room and to leave him alone.

Bruce wisely stays out of things. It’s safer that way.

Their food arrives and the light bickering stops in favor of empty calories that Tim feels as though single handedly will cure any hangover he may have later. He knows that he needs to hydrate more, that this is the real cure, but as he drags a fry that he ordered instead of hash browns through some ketchup, he doesn’t care. Jason dives into his pancakes like there’s no tomorrow.

Soon enough, they’re both relaxing in the booth, stomachs full and plates empty. Tim has finished his juice and is working on a glass of water. Jason is still drinking his Bloody Mary but he’s adding his own sips of water into the mix now.

It’s in this sleepy food coma that Tim finally takes notice of the décor around them. “Are those…wedding pictures on the wall?” he asks, blinking quickly as he tries to take in the images he’s seeing.

“Uh…yeah.” Jason looks around too, sounding and looking puzzled before he suddenly bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, there’s a _wedding chapel_ back there!” He points.

Tim can feel his jaw drop in amazement. “Wow. Okay. I thought the drive-thru wedding was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard of, but this takes the cake. Who would want to get married at _Denny’s?_ ”

“It’s Las Vegas. I guess you really can get married anywhere here.”

“Yeah, but… _Denny’s?_ ” Tim can’t help it. His brain is still somewhat sloshed, so it’s having a hard time processing things.

“Oh come on, Timmy, you know you wanna,” Jason teases as he reaches across the table to grab Tim’s hands. His tone is light, but Tim has known him too long (has _watched_ him for too long) not to notice the way his eyes betray that he’s nervous.

Tim squeezes Jason’s hands and smirks. He’s not _that_ drunk to miss what Jason’s really asking. “Of course I do. We’ve been together almost five years, I don’t think I’m going to say no at this point. But…” he lets go and leans back in the booth again, crossing his arms against his chest as he sits back. “I like to think I rate something a _little_ more classy than Denny’s.”

The nervous look in Jason’s eyes disappears in a flash as Tim’s words sink in and he grins. “Of course you do. You rate at least an Elvis impersonator.”


End file.
